


Five Times Geralt Frotted Against Jaskier's Ass and One Time He Fucked It

by Llama1412



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Come Marking, Consensual Somnophilia, Dubious Consent, Frottage, M/M, Panties, Scent Kink, Sharing a Bed, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:33:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24350608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412
Summary: Based onthis tumblr postabout Geralt frotting against Jaskier's ass in his sleep.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 75
Kudos: 989





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dubious Consent tag: They don't explicitly discuss somnophilia at the beginning and Jaskier is worried he's taking advantage of Geralt. Geralt is not at all feeling taken advantage of. Neither is unwilling, but it's dubious consent.

The first time, Jaskier honestly didn’t know what to do. Usually, he and Geralt settled down for the night with their bedrolls next to each other. But it was too hot to actually sleep  _ in  _ the bedrolls, so both he and Geralt were lying on top of a pile of blankets in as little clothing as possible. Which basically meant Geralt was wearing his positively ugly plain linen shorts, and Jaskier was clad in a tasteful pair of silk panties with lace trim.

Yes, panties. What? Jaskier liked the way the silk felt against his skin, he liked the way he looked in them, and he  _ loved  _ the way his lovers looked at him when they got his pants off.

Anyway, laying next to each other on top of their blankets was  _ just barely _ cool enough to sleep. 

That’s what woke Jaskier up first. He was suddenly too hot, and, eyes still closed, he noticed that he was laying on his side, damp with sweat, with a hot brand all along his back and around his waist. He tried to wiggle away, still half asleep, and the brand around his waist tightened, pulling him tighter against the immense heat behind him. 

The immense heat was poking him. It wasn’t uncomfortable, per say, but it was a little – well, it was poking right against his rear, and Jaskier usually at least asked for a drink first! It was with indignation that he finally woke up and looked down to see that the heat around his waist was an arm. An arm he recognized, thick with muscle and covered with a bushy layer of white hair. Which meant the body behind him belonged to one Geralt of Rivia, and the thing poking his ass was– 

Fuck.

What were you supposed to do when the man you’ve lusted over for years cuddles against you in his sleep with morning wood?

Well, if you were Jaskier, you froze. 

Jaskier meant to move away, he genuinely did. But the thing about wearing panties is, well, they are made from very thin fabric and apparently Geralt’s shorts were too, because he could feel every inch of Geralt’s cock snug against his ass. And suddenly it was very difficult to breathe.

Geralt wasn’t moving, he was just holding Jaskier tight against him. Yet Jaskier found himself almost wishing Geralt would move, wishing that if he couldn’t have Geralt, he could at least know some of what it would be like.

Geralt couldn’t say no.

That thought had Jaskier bolting up out of bed, breaking Geralt’s hold on him. That was not an okay way for his brain to be going, and he felt like he needed a bath.

Maybe a long one. Give Geralt enough time to wake up and deal with his – to deal with it. And Jaskier could very firmly be anywhere else.

That was how Jaskier ended up spending three hours before dawn bathing in the pleasantly cool river they had camped near. When he returned, Geralt was already awake and packing up camp. 

“You shouldn’t go far from camp if you can’t sleep at night.” Geralt said. “I could just barely hear you by the river, or I would have assumed you’d gotten into trouble.”

Jaskier rubbed the back of his head, striding towards his lute. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t even think about that. Just thought a dip would be nice.”

“Hmm,” Geralt grunted, and that was the end of that.


	2. Chapter 2

The second time, Jaskier probably should have seen coming. They were sharing a room at the inn, because it was the only one left. It was also actually cheaper, so Jaskier contemplated suggesting the strategy in the future.

And then he’d drunk a lot of ale to keep himself from voicing that thought. He’d seen the woman who’d approached Geralt, who had come onto him very blatantly before perching herself in his lap.

Geralt did not appear to mind this addition to his person, and Jaskier felt irritation. When _he_ flopped onto Geralt’s lap, he got dropped on the floor. Okay yes, that one time he had elbowed Geralt directly in a recent stab wound, but he wouldn’t have if Geralt had just _said_ that he was injured!

Anyway, Jaskier was being unusually broody in the corner while Geralt got crawled all over by a very lovely lady. The world felt backwards.

The world was also growing increasingly loud, and Jaskier pulled himself out of his ale mug to look around woozily. Was it just him or were people screaming? And coming closer?

At that moment, a large werewolf burst into the tavern, and Geralt was in its path, silver sword already drawn. The woman was cowering in the corner, and the moment Geralt killed the wolf, she ran screaming out of the building, along with several other patrons.

Amateurs. It was as if they’d never faced a monster before.

Jaskier, who very much had faced monsters, and who had overwhelming faith in the protection of his Witcher companion, topped off his ale and sat back down. Geralt was actually smiling slightly when he sat down next to Jaskier – you could tell from the tiiiiiiiiniest wrinkle around his eyes.

“Guess that’s the end of that contract. I say we charge more for the surprise attack and hysteria.” Jaskier said.

Geralt huffed a laugh. “I’m going to head upstairs.”

Jaskier yawned and rose with his mug in hand. “Yeah, bed sounds good.”

They’d gotten undressed normally – Geralt by now more than used to the sight of Jaskier in panties. Jaskier was almost disappointed he’d gotten so little of a reaction – and they tried to lay together on the very small bed.

After the third time Geralt shifted and elbowed him trying to fit his absurdly broad shoulders, Jaskier had had enough. “Oh for fuck’s sake, Geralt, just cuddle up behind me and _stop moving.”_

Geralt’s grunt was oddly high pitched, but he moved into place as Jaskier had demanded. Between the ale he’d drunk and the comfort of Geralt’s warm arms around him, Jaskier fell asleep quickly.

And woke up a few hours later to the sensation of something moving against him. “Sto’ mov’g,” Jaskier slurred, chasing the lure of sleep. When the low growling moan that he could feel rise up in Geralt’s chest where it was pressed against him found voice, Jaskier was quite suddenly wide awake. And, he realized, Geralt was _not._

But from the feel of things, Geralt had just come against him in his sleep. Jaskier had never gotten so hard so fast.

He should have expected this, Jaskier reflected. Geralt had clearly expected to get some earlier, and when the monster had interrupted those plans, he wasn’t even able to have some privacy to take care of himself. Jaskier cursed himself – he should have realized Geralt was asking for some private time. Instead, he’d followed Geralt upstairs and told him to cuddle up against a nice warm body.

It was nothing to do with _him._

And that thought absolutely did not make something sour rise in Jaskier’s throat. It was just a normal bodily reaction. If anything, Geralt would be horrified if he knew what he’d done.

So there was no reason why Jaskier should be so hard, stretching his panties tight. And since there was no reason, he absolutely could not take care of it. Instead, he was going to go back to sleep and let the problem go away on its own. 

5 minutes later, Jaskier was forced to admit that sleep was not going to happen. He bit his lip and pushed the waistband of his panties down under his balls. He was just taking care of a bodily need. It wasn’t wrong to do that.

Right?

Jaskier focused on the sensation of Geralt’s wet shorts sticking against the backs of Jaskier’s thighs, the wetness he could feel against his ass, and before he knew it, he was coming over his fist, biting hard on his lip to keep himself quiet.

When it was over, Jaskier panted, tucked himself back in his panties, and brought his hand up to his mouth. He knew that Geralt had an absurdly keen sense of smell. He would probably know immediately in the morning that someone had come. But since he himself came in his shorts, Jaskier hoped that Geralt would leave it there. There was no reason Geralt should know that Jaskier came too.

Right?

Despite his worries, Jaskier eventually drifted off to sleep. And when he woke the next morning, Geralt was already up and preparing breakfast. When Jaskier stretched and yawned widely, Geralt’s gaze focused abruptly on his mouth, and with horror, Jaskier saw Geralt’s nostrils flare. Could he _smell_ it on Jaskier’s breath?

  
He would never know, because Geralt stared at him for another moment and then turned away, the tips of his ears just the slightest bit red. Jaskier could feel his own face heating up, and he decided he was firmly on the _never talk about this_ train.


	3. Chapter 3

The third time was actually the opposite of the first. Well, sort of. See, Jaskier had fallen into a frozen lake and was actually maybe going to die if Geralt  _ didn’t  _ cuddle up against him naked.

Jaskier was just glad the severe cold and the way his fingers ached as he tried to flex them kept his body from reacting inappropriately. Just because he’d always wanted Geralt naked behind him did  _ not  _ mean that he would take advantage of his friend.

After a few hours, Jaskier heard Geralt’s breathing even out into sleep. He was still too cold to sleep, so he huddled back a little further into Geralt’s body. He could feel Geralt’s soft dick against his crack and he was determinedly Not Thinking About It. He Didn’t Think About It so well that he actually drifted off to sleep.

When it first started, Jaskier thought it was the dream. It wasn’t exactly unusual for him to dream about sex, or even about sex with Geralt, so when this one started with him facedown on the bed and Geralt teasingly rubbing his hardening cock up and down his crack, Jaskier had no reason to assume it was anything but Fantasy #28. So he did what he did best – threw himself enthusiastically back into the cock. Jaskier moaned, his sleeping mouth opening to drool on the blankets, and tilted his hips so that the tip of Geralt’s hard cock caught against the rim of his hole. Geralt gripped his hips and thrust faster against him.

Jaskier wasn’t exactly sure when he came awake. It all kind of blurred together. But the warm wet splash against his balls, his thighs, and his ass was very, very real. So was the startled gasp Geralt had drawn just before coming.

Jaskier genuinely couldn’t help tumbling over the edge right after that. He came all over the blankets Geralt had surrounded them with.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed, gasping for breath.

“Hmm,” Geralt said, tilting his head until his forehead rested against the nape of Jaskier’s neck.

Jaskier was going to move, just as soon as he could catch his breath. But during that time, Geralt, the big lug, fell back asleep! Jaskier used the already-soiled blanked to clean himself off and also noticed that Geralt had somehow managed to keep from getting even a speck of cum on him while Jaskier was covered.

He so wanted that to mean something. But Geralt had been asleep. And the fact that he’d fallen back asleep without freaking out meant nothing. He had always suspected that Geralt was a napper after sex. This just proved him right. It didn’t mean Geralt was okay with this, okay with the idea of coming all over Jaskier, okay with having gotten Jaskier off too.

Jaskier turned onto his back and tried very, very hard to sleep.

He wasn’t sure if he ever actually did or not. But next time he came aware, the sun was creeping into the sky and Geralt was still asleep behind him. Thankfully, neither of them were hard. But the cum-covered blanket was still bundled up next to Jaskier. If he got rid of it, maybe Geralt would dismiss everything as a bizarre dream?

Jaskier rolled out of their little nest of blankets and built up the fire so he could burn the soiled one. Then he dressed himself and got started packing up their camp.

When Geralt woke, he looked around the camp with a cocked eyebrow, but he said nothing about that night, so Jaskier assumed he’d gotten away with it. He completely forgot about Geralt’s nose, completely missed the way Geralt’s eyes had flickered open to watch him walk away.


	4. Chapter 4

The fourth time, Jaskier was pretty sure Geralt was drugged. Well, they were both drugged, which is why they were waking up tied together in some sort of damp cellar. They were tied with Geralt’s hands in front of Jaskier, Geralt’s chest against his back, and Geralt must still be asleep or they would already be out of this. The last thing that Jaskier remembered was thinking the ale tasted piss poor in this town. 

Well, now he knew why. Why waste good ale on someone who wouldn’t remember it?

He wiggled around and Geralt let out a deep sound. Jaskier froze as he realized Geralt was hard against him. “Geralt,” he said, his voice unusually quivery. “Geralt, wake up.”

Geralt made a small noise as he came awake. “Jask’r,” he slurred and his head fell forward to rest against Jaskier’s nape. “‘m hot. Too hot.”

Actually, now that he mentioned it, Geralt’s body against him was warmer than usual, and Geralt’s skin was slick with sweat. Geralt’s hips tilted forward and he let out a soft sound. “I– I need– I can’t –” Geralt didn’t seem to be able to control himself as he pushed his pants down his legs and rubbed against Jaskier’s ass. “Jaskier,” he panted. “Please.”

Jaskier licked his lips. It sounded like Geralt was saying the drugs made him need to come. And they were tied together. Even if Jaskier wanted to move away, he couldn’t. And he didn’t have the excuse of being asleep this time.

In fact, Jaskier had no excuse at all for the way he rolled his hips back into Geralt and spread his thighs, reaching back to position Geralt between them. “It’s okay,” Jaskier murmured. With Geralt in place, his hand reached back and he meant to grip Geralt’s thigh, but his hand landed on Geralt’s ass and Geralt rocked forward with a wanting noise. “That’s right,” Jaskier said, using grip on Geralt’s ass to guide his thrusts. “Take what you need, Geralt, it’s all right.”

Geralt made a desperate noise. “Jaskier,” he moaned and gods how Jaskier wished that sound was truly meant for him.

But Geralt was drugged. It wasn’t about Jaskier. It wasn’t because Geralt wanted him.

Jaskier swallowed and squeezed his thighs. Geralt bit Jaskier’s shoulder to keep quiet and Jaskier arched with a gasp. They were both still mostly clothed, and the friction was likely a bit much with Jaskier’s clothes, though he did buy the softest, nicest pants he could afford. Jaskier knew he was tenting the front of those pants, and he was glad Geralt couldn’t see it. This wasn’t about him. Geralt was drugged. Jaskier was just helping his friend. It meant nothing else.

Jaskier didn’t notice the way he tensed and his shoulders drew up around his ears. Geralt nuzzled his nose behind Jaskier’s ear. “Wa’s wrong?”

“N-nothing.”

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice somehow managed to sound menacing, even as his hips continued to move in short rolls against his thighs, unable to stop himself.

Jaskier bit his lip and closed his eyes in embarrassment. “I’m hard,” he admitted guiltily.

“Hmmm,” Geralt hummed, right in his ear. Jaskier shivered. “You should take care of that.” His voice was deep and rumbly and Jaskier really couldn’t be blamed for the way he reacted. Mainly, by doing exactly what Geralt ordered and slipping his hand into his pants. “Let me see you,” Geralt said, and how was Jaskier supposed to stand up to that? He had no idea what was going on here, but if it continued going this way, he was all for it.

Jaskier shoved his pants down his thighs, but when he reached for the waistband of his panties, Geralt stopped him. “Leave them on. Just pull yourself out.” Jaskier moaned, and Geralt positioned himself so that each thrust brushed his cock right against the silk covering Jaskier’s balls and perineum. Geralt rested his head alongside Jaskier’s, panting in his ear. His hips were moving jerkily, and Jaskier realized he must be close to the edge.

“Fuck,” he gasped and stroked his cock furiously. “Fuck, Geralt, please.”

“Can I –” Geralt mouthed at his ear as he spoke. “Can I come over you again?”

Jaskier froze. “What?” 

“You smelled like me for the next week until we bathed.” Geralt moaned low in his chest.

“Oh.” Jaskier made a surprised little noise. He’d never even considered that Geralt’s nose meant he’d be able to smell that. “You knew each time, didn’t you?”

“What?” Geralt pulled back and almost overbalanced them in his uncoordinated state. “Of course I knew. I’m the one that – I mean, I wouldn’t have if I’d thought you didn’t,” Geralt started struggling to pull away and Jaskier had to put a stop to that right now. 

“No no no, I am very much on board with this! Very much!” He squeezed his cock in emphasis and couldn’t stop the moan that escaped his throat. “I just – you never said anything. I thought – I was scared I was taking advantage.”

“Am _I?”_ Geralt asked.

“No.” He twisted his head and brushed his lips against the side of Geralt’s face. At this angle, he couldn’t kiss him, but he could mouth along his jaw. “Definitely not. Mark me, Geralt. Come on me.”

Geralt whined, high in his throat, and jerked against him, then pulled back and coated Jaskier’s silk-clad ass. The warm splatter on his cheeks made Jaskier moan, and he stripped his cock rapidly until he was coming over his hand with a muffled cry.

They panted against each other, neither speaking for a long moment. 

But Jaskier had never been one for silence. “Not to ruin the afterglow, but can you break these ropes?” When Geralt just grunted, Jaskier threw his elbow back. “Don’t you dare go to sleep!”

“Nnnnghn, what?”

“Break the ropes, Geralt. Then we get out of here and talk about this, okay.” He smiled reassuringly when Geralt tensed at that, and Geralt obligingly snapped the ropes like they were twigs.

Jaskier brought his now-free hand to his mouth and licked off the mess. Geralt groaned behind him.

“I knew I didn’t imagine that,” he breathed, not moving away from Jaskier.

Jaskier’s eyes fluttered shut and he licked the last of his cum from his fingers. “I’d wondered if you knew, the way you stared. I think about it...a lot.”

“Hmm,” Geralt rumbled, nuzzling into his hair. “I’ve thought about what you would smell like with me on your breath.”

Jaskier moaned. “We should definitely find out. After we get out of here.” Reluctantly, he pulled away from Geralt and tucked his dick back into his panties. He grimaced at the wet stain across his ass. “My pants are going to stick to me.”

Nonetheless, he wiggled back into his pants and got up onto his knees. He was stopped from rising when Geralt caught his hip and pressed his face against Jaskier’s ass. 

“I love the smell of you covered in me.” His nose dipped into Jaskier’s crack through his clothes and Jaskier’s whimpered.

“Okay, yeah, doing more of this later. But for now, I’d like to be somewhere that doesn’t smell like mildew.” 

Geralt huffed a laugh, but rolled smoothly to his feet. He tucked himself in and pulled his clothes back to rights. Jaskier waited until Geralt looked at him to cup Geralt’s cheek and kiss him softly.

He’d intended a chaste kiss, something to let Geralt know his feelings without any expectations. But Geralt licked into his mouth with a greedy moan. Geralt could taste Jaskier’s cum and he seemed to like that, because Geralt grasped Jaskier’s hair and pulled him closer, licking across every inch of his mouth. 

He pulled back when Jaskier needed air and tilted Jaskier’s head forward so their foreheads rested against each other. 

So of course that was the moment their kidnappers chose to return. Geralt took appropriate revenge, but by the time he was done, the moment was long gone. Still, Jaskier thought with a smile, they would talk later and Jaskier could kiss him again then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter I'd already finished writing, so it'll be a little longer for the next bit.


	5. Chapter 5

The fifth time, both of them had been anticipating it. Their discussion had actually gone quite well, and Jaskier settled in to sleep in Geralt’s arms, not because of some excuse, but because Geralt wanted him there. Geralt’s dick was nestled into his crack because they  _ wanted _ it to be. They had even pre-oiled his crack and thighs, because they wanted to.

After the topic of discussion, they both expected Geralt to rut against him in his sleep. It made it hard to go to sleep, but they both wanted this, both wanted to wake up in pleasure.

“Sweet dreams, love,” Jaskier murmured and Geralt sighed deeply behind him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. 

Jaskier woke up when he turned on his stomach in his sleep and a heavy weight settled over him. He grunted, feeling Geralt shift over him to rock against his ass. Geralt hummed contently in his sleep and thrust faster.

Jaskier gasped. Geralt’s weight was slowly crushing the air out of him, and he found it oddly thrilling. He could try to push Geralt off or wake him up if he needed to, but Jaskier wanted to stay exactly where he was: helpless under Geralt as the Witcher rutted against him, like Jaskier was there for his pleasure.

He loved it, loved the way it became gradually harder to draw breath, the way Geralt rubbed against him so deliciously, the way Geralt’s motions thrust Jaskier’s own cock into the mattress. 

He felt himself approaching the edge embarrassingly quickly once Geralt’s mouth fell open and he let out the most arousing noises known to man. Jaskier could hear high pitched whines that he eventually realized belong to him, and he wasn’t even sure when his mouth had opened, driving out more of his precious oxygen.

Jaskier’s head was starting to spin and he felt like he was floating and drowning all at once and he was absolutely helpless to do anything but  _ feel  _ as Geralt moaned loudly and came against his ass, thrusting through his own mess. Jaskier felt like his orgasm exploded out of him and the world went white.

When he came to, Geralt was still over him, but he had shifted so that he would no longer crush Jaskier. He was trailing kisses along Jaskier’s shoulders. “Mmmm, I woke up at the peak,” he hummed. “How wa’s’it for you?”

Jaskier sighed deeply, enjoying the ways his muscles felt like they were puddling into the sheets. “Darling, I think we might have to fuck every night.”

Geralt laughed, a low chuckle in his chest. “Are you expecting me to object? You’re the one getting dirty.”

“Mmmmm,” Jaskier closed his eyes and grinned in satisfaction. “Yes I am.” He felt sleep start to drag him under, and he knew Geralt would follow him soon. Geralt always napped after sex.

It was nice, to not worry if this was real or if he could have this. Jaskier wanted to have this, and Geralt wanted it too. That was all that mattered.


	6. Chapter 6

This time was different, Jaskier thought and licked his lips in anticipation. Geralt had asked him for this with happy eyes, resting on his chest after a roll in the hay. Even if the mere thought hadn’t sent shivers down his spine, Jaskier would have wanted it just for the clear  _ longing _ Geralt had for it.

Oh, but he did want it.

_ “I want you to finger yourself open as I sleep,” Geralt had said, kissing his chest and looking up at him coyly. “Then I want you to seat yourself on me. I want to come awake already inside you, already fucking into you the way you were made to be used.” _

Jaskier had to bite his lip against a whine at the memory, balls already aching with want. He wiggled out of Geralt’s grasp and grabbed the oil he’d left by the bed. On his side, so he could trace Geralt’s features with his eyes while he worked, Jaskier slicked two fingers and thrust them in immediately. He wanted to be filled with Geralt so badly, he couldn’t take the time to carefully stretch himself. 

Besides, he wanted it to hurt. Sometimes he still needed the reminder that this was real.

Jaskier rolled Geralt onto his back and crouched over him, gently stroking him to hardness. He gradually firmed his grip, and he could see Geralt start to come out of sleep slowly, his face twitching. Jaskier lined Geralt up and then sank down slowly, feeling the long, slow  _ stretch _ of Geralt’s cock claiming him. 

Geralt came awake with a strangled noise, thrusting upwards uncontrollably. Jaskier arched, gasping soundlessly. He was disappointed when Geralt regained control of himself.

“S’rry,” Geralt murmured, eyes blinking open to look at him before sleepiness dragged his eyelids down again. “You shou’ take it slow.”

Jaskier laughed. “Fuck that.” He flexed his thighs and pushed himself down until Geralt was in him to the root. 

“Fuck, Jaskier!” Geralt moaned.

“Mmmm, you feel so good inside me, Geralt.” Jaskier circled his hips, rocking back and forth just to savor the stretch. “I was made for this, made to be stretched on your cock.” He lifted himself up onto his knees and dropped back down, setting a fast pace. “And you were made for this, too. Made to be the toy that fills me.”

“Fuck, yes!” Geralt thrust up against him at the same time Jaskier dropped down, and his cock nailed a spot inside him that made lightning spark through his brain. 

“There! Oh, Geralt, fuck!” Jaskier moaned, stroking his cock. “I’m going to come over your chest, rub it into your chest hair until you can’t tell the white apart anymore.” Geralt arched against him with a whimper. “As much as I smell like you, you’ll smell like me, too.”

“Yes,” Geralt whined. He was starting to get frantic and Jaskier heard Geralt hold his breath before releasing it in a great gusty sigh, his hands clenching around Jaskier’s hips. Jaskier could feel Geralt pulsing inside him and Geralt kept grinding against him, pushing his cum further into Jaskier. 

Jaskier whined and, true to his word, directed his cock to paint lines of white over Geralt’s chest. He ran his hand through the thick bush of Geralt’s chest hair, rubbing the wetness in. Then he collapsed forward on top of Geralt, letting him slip out of his ass, followed by a flood of cum. Jaskier’s cheeks grew hot, but Geralt inhaled deeply and rumbled in satisfaction. 

“So this idea was a winner.” Jaskier panted. “What else you got?”


End file.
